


Sky on Fire

by ferusferrum



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 20:00:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1911864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferusferrum/pseuds/ferusferrum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alex is 12 the citizens of the soon-to-be-city Vega capture the Archangel Gabriel with the help of Michael, their loyal guardian.  However, the citizens and General suspect Michael has been collaborating with Gabriel to turn against them once he has discovered the Chosen One and Michael is imprisoned as well.  The tide of the war changes significantly in their favor, and when Alex turns 25 he joins the ranks of the Archangel Corp, to serve the city and stand guard to the captured and deadly Archangels, and for Vega that means one Archangel in particular; Michael.  He soon discovers that not everything is as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sky on Fire

The closet he hid in was dark and small. His legs were bent, touching the opposite wall.  With his ear to the door he could hear muffled yelling, and the occasional burst of gunfire or crash of something breaking.  He could smell smoke as well, and it sent shivers up his spine.

 

“Alex!”  He tensed as heavy footsteps neared his closet and gripped his legs hard enough that his short nails bit into skin through his worn jeans.

 

“Alex, come out, it’s okay now.” 

 

The possibility that his father could be possessed circled in his head, and he moved one hand down to touch the gun lying on the closet floor beside him.  It was something they had prepared for, but not anything he could imagine doing.

 

The door opened and his father stood in the entrance. Moonlight fell across the floor behind him through a slat in the boarded windows.

 

“Alex boy, it’s me, it’s done.  We’re burning them now.”  His father dropped to his knees and opened his arms. Alex let his hand move from his gun and crawled out.  “Alex.” His dad sighed into his hair as he wrapped his arms around him and held him close.

 

He threw his arms around his father, letting the warmth seep into his skin.  There was something wet and warm covering his father’s back, and when he raised his hand he could see red glistening in the light.

 

“Dad,” he whispered, voice hoarse.  “A-are you okay?”

 

“It’s a small cut.”  His arms tightened, and then relaxed.  He let Alex go and stood up.  “We’re going to need assistance, are you ready?”

 

“I’ll go get my bag.”  He grabbed his gun off the floor, his father’s warning to never leave his weapon long since engrained in him.   In the kitchen he opened a bottom cupboard and pulled out a large green backpack.  It was filled with rations, water, and first aid supplies. He helped his father dress his wound and they left the house.

 

The smell of smoke and burning bodies became stronger with each step they took.  Human fighters roamed the street, sigils painted on their dirty faces. There were bodies everywhere, riddled with bullets or gaping wounds from knives or swords.  Some were still alive, moaning in pain or begging for help.  The injured were retrieved by their peers and carried to the impromptu hospital.  The dead were brought to the small cities gates and added to the pyre.  There were too many bodies to bury, and people were suspicious of the dead becoming possessed.

 

There were more people now, Alex thought. Last year there had only been a few hundred people living here, surrounded by deserted towns. Together they had strength, could coordinate and fight off the Angel attacks. Then the General had come, and they’d begun to fortify the city, taking in the people who’d managed to survive and organizing them into a formidable army that kept supplies flowing in, and the Angels out.

 

The city had grown fast as the word spread, and the attacks had become more frequent.  Now Alex didn’t know most of the people he saw.  The only indication of their allegiance the sigils they all wore for safety and identification.   The General had come with an Angel, Michael, and precious knowledge about their kind.

 

From him they’d learned to use sigils of ash and blood to fortify their spirits and resist possession.  They often had meetings with Michael late into the night, and his dad would come home grim and exhausted.  His dad wasn’t a soldier like those that came with the General, but he was gone frequently, and Alex worried when he was away.

 

When he was younger he’d tried to go with his father, but he’d been denied.  He was sure the meeting itself might be boring, but he wanted to see an Angel up close, one that wasn’t trying to kill or possess him.  It was a somewhat morbid curiosity that twisted in his gut, fear and fascination. 

 

Alex resisted the urge to wipe his suddenly itching face.  The sigils weren’t absolute protection, but it was safer to have one than not.

 

They turned down another street and stopped next to a woman who was trying to crawl forward through the street.  She was dirty and covered in blood. His father stopped beside her and they knelt down.

 

“Where are you injured?”

 

Alex knelt down beside her, and placed his hand over hers.  “She’s bleeding from her side.”

 

His father reached for her shoulder and gently gripped it to get her attention.  “Are you hurt anywhere else?” The woman was pale and panting, her eyes rolling as she fought to stay conscious.  “You can’t speak? Okay.”  He moved next to Alex and gently peeled her hand back. Blood pulsed from the wound and his fathers face was grim.  “Stabbed, they love their steel.”

 

Alex shuffled aside and dropped his backpack to the ground.  He reached in and pulled out a roll of bandages.  “Here.”  He handed them to his father who took them and immediately covered the wound, wrapping them tight around her.  Alex moved to her side and grabbed her hand.

 

“We’re taking care of it. You’re going to be okay.”  Sweat beaded the woman’s brow and glassy eyes turned towards him.  He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, and then his dad stood up, putting his arm around her and lifting her from the ground.

 

“Alex see if you can help me keep her steady.”

 

Alex nodded and threw his backpack over his shoulder before going to her other side and putting his arm around her as well.

 

Together they moved her as fast as they could towards the hospital, stopping again when they saw another wounded fighter to bandage his wound and offer water, but ignoring the dead bodies.  The dead could wait.

 

Around one corner a man lay gasping in the street, bleeding out quickly through a severed artery in his thigh.  His hand covered it, but it was weak and limp, letting blood spray through his loose fingers.

 

They set the woman down gently and went to him. “Hey,” Alex’s father said, and clamped his hand over the wound.  Alex dropped to his side and reached once again into his pack, but the man shook his head.

 

Alex ignored him and pulled out another roll of bandages, but the man reached out and grasped his wrist weakly.  “No.”

 

“Sir, you need help.” Alex tried to pull his arm away, but the man’s grip tightened suddenly, strong enough that he could feel the bones in his wrist grind together.  He was jerked forward, his face bare inches from the man’s, his hot breath striking his face.

  
“You’re going to burn boy,” the man whispered harshly, “You’re all going to burn.”  His grip tightened, and then he opened his mouth revealing pointed teeth.

 

Alex’s eyes widened and he jerked back. “Dad!”  He struggled against the hand holding him, but the man was lunging towards his neck, mouth open and ready to bite into his flesh.

 

There was a searing sensation of pain as teeth bit at his skin, and then were torn out as something solid and heavy hit the head away from him.  There was a click and then the boom of a gun as his dad shot the man in the head.

 

“Alex!”  His father’s shaking hand was clasped over Alex’s neck, covering the bite he had received.  “Alex!” His dad pulled his hand aside and wiped at the blood.  “Oh thank God,” He dropped to his knees and grabbed the roll of gauze he had dropped when he’d gone for his gun.  He dressed the bite quickly with firm hands, and then helped Alex to his feet. “Are you okay?”

 

He was still shaking from the attack but he nodded. His limbs felt weak as they picked up the woman and began making their way towards the triage station again.

 

The medics were evaluating and directing the patients to cots that lined the makeshift field hospital that was brought out once the fighting had finished.  They deposited the woman on one of the beds, and then returned to the streets to look for more wounded.

 

“When you finish with the injured bring all the dead to the pyre, it’s burning hot now!”  The General was giving orders to the city people as they cleared the streets. “Don’t forget to check sigils!”

 

The General stopped them as they passed. “Jeep, when we’ve finished tonight I must speak with you.”

 

His father nodded, “Of course.” 

 

“Alex, thanks for your help.”The General said, tall and intimidating in his fatigues.

 

“Sir.” 

 

They turn and continue back down the semi-lit streets. Most of the injured had been moved into triage and now they were focusing on moving the dead.

 

Alex is quiet until they are out of sight of the General, but he can’t hold his tongue anymore.  “Why does the General want to speak to you?”

 

Jeep glances at him for a long moment and then turns away.  “We captured a very important prisoner tonight.  A lot of things are going to change now.”

 

“Is the war over?”  Alex felt hope rise in his chest, but as quickly as it had come it was crushed.

 

“No.  But it’s going to be better, for us at least.”  There is a crack from above and the night sky lights up with a firework someone has set off.  A few people cheered, and others shouted.

 

“Stop that!  It’s not finished yet!”

 

“The bastards still live you idiot!”

 

The complaints are ignored, and someone sets off another.  His father ignored them, putting his hand on Alex’s shoulder and guiding him past them and onto the main road.  Outside the recently erected gates they can see the fire burning brightly.

 

As they pass through the city center Alex can see a host of guards, actual soldiers not citizen soldiers, surrounding two men bound and subdued on opposite sides of the courtyard.  There’s blood running in rivulets down the larger man’s face, and he laughs and snarls in turns, struggling where he is.  What fascinates him the most is the wings he can see protruding from his back.  He’s only ever seen one Archangel before, and Michael is on their side.

 

“Is that the prisoner?”

 

His father looked over and then tried to divert his attention.  “Yes, and we have injured to attend to.”

 

They turn away but Alex glanced over his shoulder, and to his surprise he recognized the thin man held captive on the opposite side of the court.

 

“Why is Michael there?  Did he betray us?”  He can’t believe it, but the thought sends shivers down his spine. He swears he can feel Michaels eyes move from the other angel and look straight at him when he says his name.

 

“So some would say.” 

 

They work until early in the morning looking for any injured who had been overlooked and moving the dead to the fire.  Jeep returned Alex home and then left to meet the General.  Alex slept and dreamt of men in chains and teeth dripping saliva lunging towards his face.

 

 


End file.
